


Comfortable Together

by SCP862



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Blowjobs, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Dubious Consent, First Times, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Versatile Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), no beta we die like men, wake up sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCP862/pseuds/SCP862
Summary: The duo fall asleep on the couch on a stormy afternoon, weeks after Armadidnt.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 36





	1. Getting Comfortable Together

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: Fluff  
Chapter 2: Horny  
Chapter 3: ????

Business had been slow today, so A.Z Fell and Co. had closed early for the day, though it was a Tuesday so Aziraphale had only opened the shop around 1:00PM. Heaven only knows how the shop stayed in business, almost as if a small miracle had occurred to keep the place open despite the hectic hours. A storm raged outside, pellets of freezing rain pounding on the windows. Aziraphale shivered, shrugging on a beige, knit cardigan. This was one of those few days where he got particularly comfortable on the sofa next to his desk, having lost his usual jacket, vest and bow tie. Aziraphale had loosened the top 2 buttons on his white shirt to give himself a bit of room to breathe.

Things had been rather quiet the past weeks since he and Crowley had tricked the oppositions in Heaven and Hell into thinking they had become immune to Hell fire and holy water, and in that time they had decided to indulge in a bit of a vacation from trickery and do-gooding and instead in the hobbies they almost lost due to Armageddon. For Aziraphale that was of course, books. Crowley however, last time Aziraphale had heard, was on a sightseeing tour of the country’s nightlife. He had always enjoyed the stars, so it came as no surprise that he would travel to smaller towns to enjoy them where light pollution doesn’t reach. 

What does surprise Aziraphale, is when the locked doors to his shop swing open and a rush of cold wind blows through, blowing books on tables open and dropping one to the floor. “Aziraphale!” ah, the familiar sound of a familiar voice. Crowley slams the doors shut behind him as he saunters into the foyer of the shop, dodging around a pillar and sliding across the top of the front desk, barely missing smashing the register off the surface. Well, you know what they say: Speak of the Devil and he doth appear. “Crowley, very nice to see you, but next time perhaps try not to make such an entrance? I had only just gotten the shop warmed up.” Aziraphale muttered, standing up and placing the book he had been reading down onto his desk. Crowley scoffed, snapping his fingers to make a small space heater appear in the center of the room. “Happy?” he smirked, crossing his arms. The demon’s jacket was soaked through, dripping onto the hardwood and old rug by his feet. Aziraphale sighed, they rarely touched each other, but ‘friendly’ brushing of hands and maybe sometimes they sat with their knees touching on benches, and a couple of drunken nights that ended with them sprawled across each other on a couch, so Crowley felt a little awkward as Aziraphale gently helped him out of his jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack by the doors. “Couldn’t wait to get me out of my clothes, Angel?” the demon smirked, watching Aziraphale roll his eyes before speaking, “if only to save my favorite oriental rug from further damage. It’s behind the counter for a reason.” 

They had gotten used to this over the past handful of millenia, dropping in on eachother. It only got more common as time went on, and now it was odd for them not to see eachother or at least speak daily, Crowley frequently making a call to Aziraphale just before he tucked in for the night, as if he were the very thing he wanted to fall asleep thinking about. Aziraphale watched Crowley stalk around the shop out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to be taking in the reorganizing that had taken place during the shop’s silence that day before. The two had settled into comfortable silence, Crowley heading into the quaint living area in the back of the shop to make himself a cup of coffee and his angelic counterpart a cup of black tea. Crowley saw the bookshop as more of his home than his flat, which at this point had turned more into a greenhouse than anything. He had begun to pour more of his energy into gardening than before, even bringing Aziraphale flowers from time to time, peace lily in particular. 

Coming back into the front of the store, Crowley joined Aziraphale who had landed back on the sofa, sitting up as prim and proper as ever as he read. His eyes tended to drift from behind his sunglasses, a barrier he was particularly glad he had on today as he silently gazed at the bit of collarbone Aziraphale was showing off today. Shifting a little closer, he let his left knee brush against Aziraphale’s thigh, earning him a cocked eyebrow and a curious glance. “If you have something to say Crowley, I do wish you would speak your mind.” the Angel spoke, giving a coy smile to the Demon. The Demon barely hesitates before speaking up, “I haven’t seen you wear clothing this relaxed since Rome. Didn’t think you even owned anything that wasn’t starched to hell and back”. He pauses and places his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, running a hand over the soft fabric, “shame it’s beige though, a little bit of black does look good on you”. Aziraphale watches the hand run down his arm before it plucks the book from his hands, tossing it back onto the desk, not far away. The Angel sits back, deciding to yield to whatever the Demon is planning. Crowley leans towards the Angel, resting his chin on a shoulder as his fingers trail back up Aziraphale’s arm, dots of black peppering the cardigan where fingers landed. The dots expand, covering the surface of the fabric until it is completely black. An impish grin spreads across Crowley’s face, “much better” he sighs.

Aziraphale gazes down at the Demon and brushes him off his shoulder. For a moment, Crowley almost looks offended, until the Angel pats a hand on his leg, an open invitation to use it as a pillow, an invitation that will never be passed on by the Demon. Removing his glasses, he rests his head on the soft leg. With such a soft body, he sometimes forgets how strong the Angel is, knowing very well that the Angel could match himself in power, otherwise She wouldn’t have sent him to thwart his plans.. Right? He never did trust Her, so he wouldn’t put it past Her to have sent an Angel to his unknowing death. Crowley despised the thought, gazing up at Aziraphale who had closed his eyes. 

A soft hand fell into Crowley’s hair to stroke it gently in a way that only Aziraphale could do to the Demon. Turning onto his side, Crowley let himself take in the Angel’s scent as his eyes drifted closed, relishing in the feeling of being pet. It was rare that he desired affection the way he did today, but he was so soft for his Angel. His Angel? That was a tad possessive of him to think, but it’s how he truly felt about Aziraphale, and he only hoped that Aziraphale felt the same.

Aziraphale blinked his eyes open, realizing he had started to doze off. A rare indulgence of his and one he found embarrassing in the company of others, especially Crowley. His cheeks heated as he looked down at the Demon, features softened and relaxed. ‘A heavenly sight to see’ he thinks to himself, not that he would tell the man below him that, as much as he wanted to spoil him with affection whenever possible. The Demon had undeniably found himself asleep, his eyes moving back and forth behind his eyelids, and soon Aziraphale couldn’t deny himself any longer from the act himself. He rested his head on the back of the couch and drifted off to sleep.


	2. A Sinful Way to Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> essentially just, Crowley giving a blowjob :))))

Crowley was the first to wake up. He didn’t bother checking his watch, but if the darkness outside was any giveaway, it was probably between 11:00PM and midnight. He rolled over, enjoying the heat radiating off the body still beneath his head. Without much thought, the Demon brings an arm up beside his head on the legs, bumping into an unexpected lump on the surface. Blinking in the dark, Crowley could hardly believe what he was seeing. Shaking his head slightly, he pinched his arm, hard. He definitely wasn’t dreaming. Aziraphale mumbled in his sleep, one arm at his side and one resting on Crowley's side.

Crowley raked a hand through his hair. If he had any sense, he would get up, make himself decent and toss a blanket over the Angel to give him some.. modesty. But that isn’t what he is going to choose to do, of course it’s not, this is a rare opportunity to mess with the Angel who clearly had a little lust planted in him already, so what’s the harm in a little bit of sinful fun? 

Crowley whispers in the dark, sweet nothings and small enchantments that float around Aziraphale’s head and into one of his ears. He can feel shifting underneath his head and hear soft panting above him. A grin plays at his features as he shifts forward, planting a kiss to the tent in pants that hug so perfectly on soft thighs. He massages it against his palm, mouthing at the fabric as it grows tighter under his touch. A few moments pass before the Angel stirs from his slumber, trying to catch his breath. 

The room is definitely too hot, his mind is trying to process everything at once and all he can remember is that darn heater, that must be it he thinks, until he is pulled entirely into reality by a pressure on his loin. He lets out a groan and gasps, fighting the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He forces himself to look down, taking in the sight below him of a disheveled and absolutely sinful looking Crowley below him, mouthing at his crotch. Crowley finally glances up at him from his position, meeting eyes but never moving or ceasing his relentless teasing. Struggling to find his voice, the Angel gasps out. “Crowley.. What on Earth has..” he moans, tossing his head back before proceeding, “gotten into you!”. Crowley can’t help but hum out a content sound, this is where he could play it off as a joke, a little sinful jab at how the Angel isn’t so pure after all! But before he can consider it, the Angel’s hand flies to his hair, searching for something to grasp onto before he loses himself completely. 

“This alright with you, Angel?” Crowley asks, his tone too pleading for his liking. Aziraphale nods and Crowley searches his face for any hesitation before sliding to the floor and onto his knees in front of the Angel, between spread legs. Buttons come undone quickly and Crowley could just about tear the trousers off of the soft, pliable man but he knows the man would be less than happy with that, and perhaps it would be a bit too forward for what would be their first time. Aziraphale lifts his hips and allows his trousers and briefs to be shucked down to his ankles, leaving him exposed from the waist down.

Crowley wastes no time sliding up towards the leaking erection in front of him, his forked tongue coming out to lick a stripe up the side of it. He could smell pure lust radiating off of Aziraphale now, a hand returning to his hair to grip the strands as he takes the length into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that sends Aziraphale reeling with pleasure. For a creature built from love, the sounds he made sounded nothing like any Angel should be making. Crowley wanted to hear more, any sound that the man above him had to make, he wanted to hear them. Pulling off with a wet pop, the Demon sets a near painful pace with his hand, standing up to hover just over the Angel, to watch him fall apart.

Aziraphale cracks an eye open, Crowley is hovering just inches away from his face, he can’t help but crane his neck in a silent plea as the Demon closes the space between them, a heated kiss that has Aziraphale falling apart and seeing white as he peaks, spilling into Crowley’s torturous hand that never ceases it’s pace until he’s sure that he’s milked every last drop out of the writhing Angel. They pull apart with a small string of saliva as Aziraphale struggles to catch his breath, coming down from an endorphin induced high. Crowley’s lips ghost along the Angel’s, “are you alright Angel?”, the Angel just nods, eyelids fluttering open, a bit hazy as a content smile spreads across his features. Snapping the fingers on his clean hand, he miracles the mess on his other away while he also cleans up Aziraphale in one fell swoop. In another motion, he miracles a pair of black sweatpants onto the angel before embarrassment can find itself into him.

The room is quiet as Crowley feels some growing anxiety in his gut. Something Aziraphale could sense, opening his arms and waiting for the Demon to climb onto his lap. They sit like that, embraced for what feels like hours before the Angel makes a decision: the bed in his room has never been used enough. Effortlessly, he stands up with Crowley in his arms, carrying him bridal style through the bookshop. Crowley crosses his arms and grunts out in complaint, “Angel, put me down. Put me down!!” but he doesn’t struggle. Aziraphale laughs at the Demon as he pads across the hardwood floor and into the barely used bedroom, hidden just past a fully stocked kitchen and small bathroom. Rounding a corner into the bedroom, Aziraphale just about tosses the demon onto the bed, mattress almost as new as the day he bought it about 30 odd years ago, when beds seemed to finally be becoming something worth all the hubbub. The Demon attempts a scowl, but falters as the Angel crawls onto the bed and wraps a soft, tartan pattern blanket over them both.

  
  


The Angel wraps an arm around Crowley under the blanket and huddles up to him, cozying up. They could talk about this all in the morning, but for now the both of them were in silent agreement that for now they would just bask in the moment, whether they fall asleep again or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive decided im enjoyed writing this too much to end it at 2 chapters so there will probably be 3 and then maaaybe im done?


	3. Aziraphale's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wants his cake and to eat it too.
> 
> He wants Crowley.

Aziraphale stretched his arms as high as he could reach, his fingertips barely grazing the spine of the book he was after, high up on one of the tall shelves of his shop. He could always miracle his step stool to be just a little bit taller, but of course he had his reasons not to. A specific reason actually. “Let me grab that for you, Angel.” Crowley cooed from behind his back, reaching up over Aziraphale’s head, pressing his chest against the shorter man’s back before slumping down over his shoulders, resting his head on one side. “Thank you dear” he hums out, relishing in the embrace he’s found himself in, not for the first time in the past couple weeks.

Aziraphale had come to think of himself as the luckiest person alive. Things had not slowed down in his relationship with Crowley, in fact Crowley had just about moved into the bookshop not two days after their initial sexually charged encounter. The duo could hardly keep their hands off one another, enjoying their new found freedom to express their love to one another, through words, actions and Aziraphale’s new favorite way: sex. They hadn’t gotten to penetration yet, but Aziraphale was determined to make it happen, tonight. He wanted Crowley in every way and to be as close as the two could get. He had been dropping hints the past couple days and Crowley had been incredibly receptive, the blushing fool. Aziraphale could read him like a book as Crowley had started leaving his sunglasses off for hours at a time while in the shop. He had particularly fallen for the way Crowley’s pupils dilated when he was aroused. And thus, Aziraphale had a plan set in place.

Crowley backed up, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his and leading him down from the little step stool. An unnecessary action, but Aziraphale enjoyed the sentiment of the small things Crowley did for him. Aziraphale hops up on his toes and gives Crowley a peck on the cheek, wandering over to his desk. Flipping the book open, he spies Crowley out of the corner of his eye. He knows that Crowley will grow bored, and with that, grow curious. And that is exactly what he wants. Crowley had been too focused on Aziraphale to notice the text he was reaching for on the shelf, a near ancient copy of a well known book, Kama Sutra. Aziraphale had pulled it from the back of the store, hoping for it to catch the Demon’s eye soon enough, but he had grown impatient. He wanted his cake and to eat it now.

Crowley puttered away, playing Tetris on his phone, snapping a picture of the Angel at his desk to set as his background and humming to what people now considered to be “classic rock”, but the Demon could only do so for so long before he found himself tossing and turning on the sofa near Aziraphale’s desk. Shifting into a snake, he buried himself deep inside of the throw blanket, attempting to smother himself in warmth to no avail. Peeking his head out of the blanket, he slips down onto the floor and slithers his way up the back of Aziraphale’s chair, wrapping himself around the Angel’s neck like a loose scarf. He peers down to get a good look at what could possibly be keeping the Angel’s attention for so long. “Thisss a new book, Angel?” is hissed into Aziraphale’s ear, sending a small shiver down his spine. Aziraphale silently revels in his success of grabbing Crowley’s attention, just as he planned. “Quite old in fact, just lightly read” “oh? What a shame.. The humansss in thisss book sseem far more interessting than mosst of your bookss”. Crowley slithers down the side of the chair and morphs back into his corporeal form, placing a hand on the Angel’s shoulder while he leans over, snatching up the book. “So this is what you are into, Angel? Didn’t take you for the type to read this sorta rubbish, though.. I do like this pose, on the throne.” Crowley turns the book, pointing at an illustration of a female consort sitting on the lap of a large man. Aziraphale swears he can feel a full body blush coming on, avoiding eye contact. Suddenly, under Crowley’s gaze, he’s a lot more nervous. “W-well, it is sort of silly in this day and time.. I mean, who even owns a throne anymore?”. Crowley goes silent before he cracks, letting out a laugh. “I do. I should have known, you’ve never been in my flat before.” he grins, “but maybe you’d like to?”. Aziraphale nods a little too enthusiastically for his own liking, cursing himself but appreciating Crowley not making a remark about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading chapter 3!  
I really hope people are enjoying this fic as I'm having a blast writing it, especially now that I have time (thanks self isolation).


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